


Safe and Whole

by qwanderer



Series: Pardicer [4]
Category: Leverage
Genre: Episode: s05e02 The Blue Line Job, Multi, also has spoilers for The Radio Job, specifically, this is one of those fics where I basically rewrite the whole canon without changing the canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 09:46:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9066460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qwanderer/pseuds/qwanderer
Summary: He told Marko about all the hinky things that were happening in his body, all the weak points that meant one good hit would drop him like a line of dominoes and he'd never get back up.It wasn't enough, because Marko had the cockamamie notion that sacrificing himself was what was best for his son.





	

**Author's Note:**

> As noted in the tags, this fic is deeply involved with the plot of The Blue Line Job and also contains spoilers for The Radio Job, just in case you're a latecomer to the fandom like me.

Parker watched Hardison get more and more twitchy as they listened in on the conversation downstairs, as the kid who was their new client explained what repeated blows to the head could do to a person in the long term. As he told them how his father was disintegrating, and the reasons he suspected. As Eliot and Nate just nodded along, agreeing. 

Eliot's job was dangerous. They both knew that. But Alec mostly tried very hard not to think about it. And this was bringing it all to the front of their minds. 

When Hardison started biting his nails, Parker reached out and switched the speakers off, then turned to poke the device Hardison had been working on before the meeting. "What is it? Does it do anything cool? Can I play with it?" 

Hardison started in on a safety lecture about how it was an electromagnet that was dangerous when it was switched on, and then promptly switched it on, making Nate's abandoned watch smack against it and burst like a bug splattered across a windshield. 

A small sacrifice, in the larger scheme of things, if it kept Hardison from dwelling on the possible outcomes of Eliot's job. 

Then the others came up, and Hardison did his part in running the briefing, and it was okay up until someone asked how they were gonna stop this hockey player from getting himself killed and Nate said, as casual as if he was commenting on the weather, "That's what we have Eliot for." 

Parker was watching Hardison, and she could tell when any guilt over having destroyed Nate's watch just drained right out of him. 

Parker, for her part, was glad to have contributed, in her own small way. She was definitely petty enough for that. 

* * *

Eliot could _not_ get through to this guy, no matter how hard he tried. But he had to keep trying. 

He told Marko about all the hinky things that were happening in his body, all the weak points that meant one good hit would drop him like a line of dominoes and he'd never get back up. 

It wasn't enough, because Marko had the cockamamie notion that sacrificing himself was what was best for his son. 

"Until you have a family," the guy spat at him, "I would never expect you to understand." 

_How do I get him to see that I do have a family, and they've taught me the opposite? I can't explain the team, can't explain Parker and Hardison. The way they've taught me that they need me safe and whole._

_But I can explain the missteps. The before. The family I had then._

"You're right," he told Marko. "I don't got family, not like you mean. But I had brothers." 

He poured himself out into that speech. 

And it still wasn't enough. 

He needed to talk to Nate. 

* * *

Eliot threw his gear down on the table in front of Nate. "You gotta gimme more than this. Its not working. He's too stubborn to protect." 

Nate just raised his eyebrows. "Are you telling me you can't do your job?" 

Eliot made a disgusted noise. "Yes, okay? Yes, that's what I'm tellin' you." 

"Well you're going to have to," Nate told him. "I don't have a backup plan for this. Taking him out of the game, or stopping the game entirely, those would both ruin his life. But his life is what it is. It's hockey. It's a gamble every time he steps out on that ice. He knows that. You know that. Even his son knows that. And that is something about his life we cannot change." 

Eliot growled. "Damn it, Nate, you have to be able to do more than that! This kid... he needs his dad." 

Nate scoffed. "You think that makes a difference? The world is cruel, it's cold, do I really need to tell _you_ that? Come on, Eliot." 

Eliot shook his head. "You know you might think that, you might think that you need to think that to be the mastermind, to lead this crew, but you're wrong." 

Nate turned his eyes on Eliot in a penetrating glare, but after it didn't get a reaction, the look turned thoughtful. 

"Maybe so," he said. "I don't think someone like Hardison could run this job. But maybe I'm wrong. Maybe he could. Maybe you should go to him. And maybe... maybe you should ask Parker. Ask her what she'd do." 

Eliot wondered if he knew. Knew how Eliot loved Hardison, loved his ridiculous, hopeful, optimistic view of people. Knew how he loved Parker, loved the way she wanted to be better. More noble. 

Eliot knew he couldn't ask Hardison about this. Eliot knew that Hardison already had trouble understanding the way Eliot put himself in danger for the team, for the two of them. This? A whole culture built around guys crashing into each other for nothing much more than entertainment? Hardison wouldn't be able to get his head around that well enough to be of any help. 

Parker wasn't soft, not like Hardison was, and Nate and Eliot both knew that. But Nate was soft in ways Parker wasn't, and Parker in ways Nate wasn't. 

In general, Eliot preferred Parker's soft spots. 

He gave a soft snort. "Well maybe I will," he told Nate. 

He wanted to tell his friend what the two of them were to him. But in some ways it seemed like it would be easier to let Nate figure it out on his own. Let those laser eyes cut into him and do their worst. Easier to take whatever hits came at him than to actually tell him about it. 

He'd do it the hard way, eventually, he knew. But not today. Not when Nate was like this. 

Not when Nate was still all jagged edges over his own dad sacrificing himself for Nate, when it wasn't what Nate wanted but he and the team hadn't been able to stop it. 

Maybe they couldn't stop this guy from destroying himself, the way Jimmy Ford had destroyed himself. But for their client's sake, for his friend's sake, he sure as fuck wasn't gonna stop now. 

* * *

Eliot came in to see Parker and Hardison curled up at the head of their bed, watching a movie. He hesitated. 

"Come on, come here," Hardison said, beckoning. 

It wasn't that he didn't know he was welcome. It was that Hardison represented comfort, rest, and that wasn't what he needed most urgently. Instead Eliot walked around the bed and slid in on Parker's side. Neither of them reached for the other, the way Alec would have, but she was still a comforting warmth pressed against his side. 

"What happened?" Hardison asked. 

"Marko jumped me. Like I'm the one hurtin' him! I don't wanna fight him, that's the last thing I wanna do. So I tried talking. Got as deep in as I could. Tried bein' honest. Well. Fat lot of good that did." 

Hardison frowned. "At least he stopped hitting you long enough to listen, right?" 

"Least of my worries, Hardison." 

"Why are you here?" Parker asked. Hardison gave her a disapproving look, but she ignored it to watch Eliot. Her steady eyes were patient, waiting him out until he told them everything. 

"I can't keep 'im safe. It's my job to keep 'im safe and I can't do it. Nate's... he's not thinkin' straight, not like he usually does, says he doesn't have a plan for this except for me to do my best to get between Marko and the other team. But Marko ain't cooperatin' an' I can't get 'im to! I can't get through to him! I'm not a grifter! Not like I'd need to be for this! I'm a hitter! I can't protect 'im if he's so damn determined to take the hits himself!" 

Eliot took a breath, and leaned up against Parker, the movie still playing on in the background. It was good to have something else to look at. He didn't know if he wanted to see how they'd react to that. 

Well, he didn't want to see how Hardison took it. He made himself look at Parker. 

Parker's gears were turning. She wasn't reacting with emotion. She was rearranging things, trying to solve the puzzle, unlock one of her fiddly locks. Then she smirked. 

"What, you got a plan?" Eliot asked. 

"Fight needs two people, right? If you can't talk him out of the fight - maybe you can talk the other guys out of it?" 

"And just when do you expect me to do that?" he asked, frustrated. "I'm an Otter. If I show up in the other team's locker room before the game someone's gonna call foul." 

"Eliot, for this job you're not a grifter, you're a hitter." 

Eliot just scowled, not sure yet what she was getting at. 

"But Eliot, you're the kind of hitter who can talk while he's fighting. You try and talk people down. Just because it didn't work on Marko, doesn't mean it's not solid. And people expect you to fight the other team out there. So knock them down and tell them what they're gonna do. Why. What could happen. All the scary stuff you told Marko that he doesn't care about but most people would. I don't think it'll take much. Chances are they're decent, and they'll care, once you explain." 

Nate would never. He'd never say that. He'd never bet on people like that. Especially not in the space he was in right now. If it were Hardison telling him this, Eliot wouldn't believe it, because Hardison didn't know how bad people could get, how hard and cold life could make you. 

But Parker? Parker, he believed. 

He took a breath. "Okay," he said. "You think that'll work? Okay. I can do that." 

They sat for a minute, while Eliot absorbed the fact that there was a plan, that he had a new approach, given to him by someone he trusted. They both watched him. 

"Something's still bothering you," Hardison said, looking like he wanted to reach out, not sure if Eliot was done with the part where he needed Parker as a shield. "What is it?" 

"I'm worried about Nate," Eliot admitted. "This job's hittin' him weird." 

"Don't be," Parker said. "Sophie's taking care of him. Keeping him distracted." 

"Stanley Cup thing's a lie, huh?" Eliot said with a small smile. 

"Nah," Parker said. "The best kind of puzzles for Nate are the kind with a solution." 

"He is kinda a Captain Kirk that way," Hardison offered. "Doesn't believe in the no-win scenario until he runs smack into one, an' it hits him hard." 

"Is that a Star Wars thing?" Eliot said, straight-faced. 

Hardison reached over then, smacked his shoulder, with a force he probably thought of as significant. "Just... just stop that. I _know_ you know better by now. I been educatin' you both on the sci-fi and spec-fic classics. Speakin' of which. Just watch the movie. You _heathen_." 

But Eliot had caught the genuine fear that was there in Hardison's eyes for a moment, before he knew for sure it was a joke. Fear that what was happening to the guy Eliot was trying to save was happening to Eliot too. That Hardison and Parker were going to lose him, piece by piece. 

Eliot still had trouble believing that he mattered to them that much. But when he saw it, like now, it hurt. In a good way, but still hurt. 

"Okay, okay," he said, reaching out over Parker's shoulder to rub the tension out of Hardison's neck. "I won't joke about that anymore." 

"Damn right you won't," Hardison said, and relaxed under Eliot's hand, burying his face in Parker's neck. "Trek is sacred. Don't disrespect the Trek." 

Parker gave Eliot a tiny, approving nod for the save, and obediently turned her eyes back to the screen, where Soylent Green was going on without them. 

Parker knew people better every day. She was good at this. 

She had this. 

He was allowed Hardison's comfort now. 

Eliot curled into the warmth of both of them, and let himself drift. 

* * *

He'd done everything he could, on both fronts. Getting between their guy and the other team with his body, and with his words. And now he was in the penalty box, his body useless. 

He looked up at Nate. Nate looked away. 

He'd have to hope his words were worth more, today. 

And he did hope. 

Those two were changing him a little more every day. 


End file.
